


I'm Pregnant

by Dark_and_night



Category: The Boy (2016 Bell)
Genre: F/M, Pregnant, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:06:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: Pregnant.
Relationships: Brahms Heelshire/Reader, Brahms Heelshire/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 122





	I'm Pregnant

It was two words. Three, technically, seeing as ‘I’m’ is a contraction of ‘I’ and ‘am.’ Two words, three, it didn’t really matter. Because it was the meaning behind them that mattered. Brahms stared at you with wide, scared eyes as he absorbed the words that had just left your lips.

You stared back at him only for a moment before finally breaking eye contact, looking down at your stomach. It was still so early. You didn’t look pregnant at all. If it wasn’t for the fact that the little plastic stick had said you were pregnant, you wouldn’t have believed it.

Brahms slowly turned, shuffling to a wall. He ran his hand over it, finding the hatch that would open the door. He knelt down, slinking into the wall silently, leaving you alone.

You put a hand on your stomach, still trying to make sense of the situation. It didn’t seem real. 

Most people had claimed that you would dream of the day you became a parent. That it was something that everyone was supposed to dream of. But you hadn’t. And if you had, you hadn’t imagined it happening on accident. And you certainly didn’t imagine the father walking away after hearing the news. 

Tears sprang at your eyes as you stood there, completely shell-shocked. Everything was going to change. Everything was going to change forever and there was nothing you could do about it.

You might have been happy about the idea of a child, if Brahms had been happy too. 

Turning, tears streaming down your face, you made a move to leave. Leave the room, leave the house, try to find somewhere you could sit and think, and privacy permitting, to cry as well.

A hand on your arm stopped you as you geared up to make a break for it. You turned, and Brahms was standing behind you, holding you still.

“What do you want?” You sniffed.

Brahms looking down, holding up a small blanket.

Frowning, you took it from him, observing it. It was obviously very worn, and old. And very loved. There were several stitches and patches where the blanket had been fixed after it had been ripped and worn through. 

It was blue, with a small hippo in the corner. A baby blanket.

“Brahms?” You looked up at him, hiccuping slightly from crying.

“Do you think the baby will like it?” He asked softly, fingering the corner of the fabric. 

“Oh, Brahmsy.” You threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Brahms hugged you back, but not as forcefully as he usually did. He was being cautious, gentle. “That’s why you walked out?”

“I’m scared.” He admitted. “But I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sighed, resting your head in his chest. “We’ll figure out how to be good parents.”

He nodded, lifting his mask and kissing your forehead. “We will.”


End file.
